


Sustained Contact

by TheShipSailsItself



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexual Content, a less than gentle handling of Harry Greenwood (by the author), comfort cuddling, forced physical proximity, graphic depictions of injuries, manly shrieking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2020-09-23 01:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20331694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShipSailsItself/pseuds/TheShipSailsItself
Summary: A demon hunt goes badly and a spell goes even worse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cinder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinder/gifts).

> NB: I've upped the rating for this fic AGAIN for the upcoming chapters and on. There will be graphic descriptions of injuries, mildly dubious consent (I prefer to err on the side of caution) and a not so mild sexual content.
> 
> So if that's not your bag, curate your online experience accordingly.
> 
> This fic is for Lunadove (Cinder) who gave me an amazing prompt! Hope y'all enjoy!!

Of course the body-snatching demon had turned up at the on campus concert. Because, why not? It was perfect. Hundreds of college kids milling around, a good percentage of whom were either drunk or stoned off their asses. Picking out just one ‘oddly behaving’ body in this sea of humanity was pretty much impossible. And yet it had given itself away by going from one student to another, leaving the previous host lying twitching on the pavement while it hobbled away not yet in full control of its new body. The sisters had given chase while their Whitelighter had seen to the unfortunate erstwhile host.

“Crap. It’s gone!” Mel huffed out, resting her hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath. They had made it to a clearing in front of a cluster of dorm buildings but there wasn’t a soul in sight. There were too many possibilities as to where the demon could have gone, the woods, the East dorm, the West, the Honors. Mel growled her frustration while she tried to straighten up despite the stitch in her side.

“Wait, look at this, guys!” Maggie’s bright voice echoing from further down the walkway.

Mel turned to her little sister who looked to be peeling something from the pavement. Something that, in addition to it’s mottled, pukish coloring, looked to be both dripping wet and smoldering at same time.

“I think it’s part of the demon that our potion blew off. Yech, and I think it’s-” Maggie screamed and flung the strip of presumed demon flesh away just as it began to twist and curl, feeling out her fingertips as if it wanted crawl up her hand. The thing landed with a wet ‘thwip’ at the eldest Charmed One’s feet still wriggling and putting of tiny wisps of smoke.

“Okay, that is _disgusting_! Harry, come look at it,” Macy called out behind her. She pulled out a single latex glove and used it to quickly shove the fleshy chunk into a specimen bag she’d borrowed from her lab.

A few moments later Harry strode up to peer over Macy’s shoulder at the wriggling thing, keeping a bit of distance despite it having been secured in the clear zippered bag. Even in the dim dusk light it was clear that the ‘thing’ was one of the many small appendages of the demon’s true form. Probably from about the neck or face area.

“Then definitely something we can use,” Macy declared. “And who knows? Maybe we hit the demon hard enough in the face to slow it down for a while.”

Macy handed the still moving bag over to Harry who accepted it barely suppressed revulsion. She stepped in close and laid a hand on his arm. “Take us home, Harry?” Harry's grimace of distaste morphed quickly into a smile and he nodded. He gave Macy's hand an affectionate pat with his free hand and waited for her sisters to take hold of him before whisking his charges and himself home.


	2. Chapter 2

The four of them landed in the attic with the usual graceless wobble. It seemed that the more people Harry took with him as he orbed the less steady the landings tended to be. Though, honestly the sisters had seen Harry needing to find his feet more than a few times when orbing in on his own. This time it was Macy’s turn to be the most off balance despite being the one with the firmest grip on their Whitelighter.

“Oh, OH SHI-!”

Harry’s arm instinctively shot out from their huddle and grabbed at the waist of Macy’s coat hauling her back to her feet. Well, it was supposed to be to her feet but in the moment he must have put just a bit too much force into the pulling and as a result Macy slammed full length against him and then it was Harry’s turn to try and stop himself from falling over like a bowling pin. With more careful an effort this time Harry righted them both, taking a moment to assure himself that they were both steady before easing his white knuckled grip on coat. Macy herself seemed to be taking a moment as her hands slid slowly from the lapels of his coat. She had yet to step out of his arms and the feel of her pressed against him was distracting to say the least. She leaned back just enough to catch is eye and give him an amused smile before her eyes widened with realiz-

“You two okay there, Mace?”

Maggie’s teasing voice broke into Harry’s wildly ill-timed reverie. Harry’s could feel his face flush and his lungs practically seize as he felt Macy’s hand quickly shoving his own from off of her… Harry could hardly name it. The embarrassment was too much. He hadn’t even realized himself how intimate his hand placement had been, too preoccupied with not wanting to see her tumble down onto the attic floor.

“Macy, I-” Harry cleared his throat and took a quick step back, dress shoes scraping and heels practically clicking as he clasped his burning hands behind his now ramrod straight spine. “Apologies.”

Macy spun away from him, snatching their demon specimen from the pocket of his coat as she did so. Maggie trailed after making laughing comments at her eldest sister’s back. Macy muttered something that might have been a threat but was drowned out by the clatter of equipment being set somewhat forcefully on one of the old desks.

Harry made his way to the attic’s door pausing briefly in the doorway.

“Quite a lot of work for us tonight, ladies. Would anyone like some refreshments before we start?”

“No thanks, Har!” and “I’m good,” came Maggie and Mel’s replies as they peered and poked at the wriggling mass on Macy’s table.

Harry stood, not moving, waiting on a third reply. His patience was rewarded when Macy turned her head at him and sent him a small smile and a shake of her head as she silently mouthed a ‘thank you.’ For no reason he could think of Harry felt heat climbing up his neck once again. He ducked his head and tried to hide the smile he could feel practically splitting his face, his cheeks twinging with a strange happy soreness.

“Very well, ladies,” he said at his shoes. “If you change your minds I’ll have something ready in the kitchen.” This time Harry didn’t wait for any further replies and instead beat a hasty retreat down the stairwell.


	3. Chapter 3

An hour ticked by followed by another but Macy still had found nothing abnormal or even abnormal about the still squirming specimen. After the first hour Maggie and Mel, unable to find anything new in the Book of Shadow or Marisol’s other books, grew bored and wandered down to see what Harry’s had been making for refreshments.

Macy hadn’t argued thinking a bit more quiet would be welcome and helpful in her quest to study their ‘prey’. She had been wrong. So very, very wrong. In the stillness of the attic her mind wandered again and again to Harry. Specifically and vividly it wandered to their earlier ‘mishap’. A mishap that had happened because, once again, her mind had wandered. And at a moment when more pressing, duty related things should have been at the forefront of her thoughts. But then, like now, those thoughts of Harry just would not leave her alone.

_The feel of his arms around her, his hands pulling her against his body. Palms, cold from the night air, holding her hips against his._

Macy sighed, giving up. She pulled off her latex gloves and rubbed at her temples briefly before picking up a heavy glass bell jar from the floor and placing it over the specimen. It hadn’t shown any interest in crawling out of the dish it had been placed in hours earlier, not like the way it had seemed to crawl up Maggie’s arm when they had first found it. But Macy wasn’t one to take any chances. For added measure Macy muttered a quick spell to seal the glass to the table ensuring that not even the smoke could escape. And after all the other poking and prodding and even cutting in half the thing still hadn’t stopped moving. So perhaps a lack of oxygen wouldn’t ‘kill’ it either. Though, even if it did, at least that would be something learned. When the faint glow around the glass’ edge that Macy had been waiting for appeared she nodded with satisfaction and made her way out of the attic.

—

Macy stopped by her room for a quick change of clothes. After a night of running all over campus in her work shoes Macy groaned with relief as she slipped her aching feet into a pair of fuzzy socks. Grabbing a thin robe to throw over her pajamas, Macy made her out to the hallway. Whatever they did next she doubted it formal attire would be required.

After only a few steps Macy paused, considering. She bent over the railing, listening briefly for the sounds of voices but heard none. They must’ve gone to their rooms already, she concluded.

Macy made her way first to Mel’s room to tell her about her findings or rather the utter lack thereof.

“Nothing. Like, weirdly nothing. Almost suspiciously nothing. But still…”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah,” Macy sighed with a shrug. She pulled her robe tighter around her and rolled her aching shoulders. God, a hot, bubbly soak would’ve been so perfect right about now or maybe an hour in a massage chair. Or even just a shoulder rub…

_A bassy rumble rambling on about the different eras of Sumerian sorcery in her ear. Hands kneading into the tired muscles, long fingers sweeping away loose curls from her neck before-_

“So, wanna try that scrying thing again?” Mel’s voice interrupted Macy’s thoughts, thankfully derailing them from a particularly dangerous path. Macy nodded. What else did they have left to try?

“Let’s do it. If we don’t get at least one use out of that thing I’m going to be too pissed off to sleep,” Macy groused before taking a calming breath. “How about you start setting it up and I can get Maggie and Harry?”

“Sounds good,” Mel replied, slipping out of her room and squeezing her sister’s hand as she passed. As the two sisters headed in opposite directions Mel called out over her shoulder, “Hey, Mace, Harry made some of that rarebit stuff. You should try some when you get down there. If Maggie gets another crack at it there probably won’t be any left and he made it extra cheesy this time.”

Macy chuckled out a thanks and turned to knock at their little sister’s door.


	4. Chapter 4

Macy wandered down slowly as Maggie made her way up to the attic to join Mel. She wasn’t dragging her feet, per se. More like… taking her time and gathering her thoughts. Wrangling them. Schooling, even. Chaining them in the basement of her mind where she kept all her other unruly thoughts and desires, most of which centered around Harry Greenwood of late.

She stepped up to the kitchen’s entryway and found Harry sitting at the kitchen table with apron still on and oven mitts laid aside. But the table wasn’t covered with food or even the preparations for food as she’d been expecting. Instead, she saw that Harry had surrounded himself with neat stacks of papers, his writing in bright blue ink covering scrawled down their margins. The bright blue, he’d once told her, felt gentler, less confrontational than the traditional red. 

Macy allowed herself a moment longer to linger unobserved. She loved seeing him like this, equal parts domestic and academic professional. (The rolled up sleeves and hair mussed and floppy after a long day didn’t hurt either.)

_Lock it down, Macy._

She watched Harry frown at the paper he had in his hand before he added even more commentary to an already over flowing margin in obvious exasperation.

“I don’t think any color pen is going to soften the blow of that many notes, Harry,” she teased from her place in the entryway. He started ever so slightly and Macy felt the smallest twinge of guilt. The consternation on Harry’s face melted away when he saw who it was and he flashed her a warm, soft-eyed smile. That, strangely enough, that was enough to entirely wash away her own frustrations of the past few hours.

“Finished already?” Harry asked with more than a hint of surprise. He set down his pen and straightened in his seat. No doubt readying himself to help with whatever the next step in their demon hunt would be, the ever ready and dutiful Whitelighter.

Macy let out a small laugh, “'Already'? Harry, it’s past eleven.” She glanced over to the kitchen clock for confirmation when the overflowing counter caught her eye. Wow, he had been _busy_. She shook her head, if the piles of goodies on the kitchen counter in addition to the piles of university work he had surrounded himself with were anything to go by Harry had lost track of time a while ago. “But, yes, I’m finished with my part at least. I guess there’s no science-ing our way out of this one.”

Harry followed her gaze to the clock, sighing and rubbing at his forehead.

“So perhaps the three of you could take a stab at-”

“Scrying? Yup. That’s next on the agenda. Maggie and Mel already went back up to the attic to get things ready. I just came down to let you know. And to see what you’ve been getting up to down here. It smells wonderful even from the attic.” The last part she knew would- and there he went, his head ducking as if he could really hide his pleased if sheepish smile from her. He cleared his throat and without lifting his eyes he started to shuffle and restack his papers.

“Did you have need any assistance?” he asked after a brief moment. “I have several other spells in addition to the ones I showed you and Melanie. Or perhaps more chalk? I could go back to my office to fetch some…”

Macy quickly stepped to his side and laid her hand on his shoulder keeping him from rising from his chair.

“Harry,” she said gently, emphasizing his name with a squeeze of her hand. “_Relax_. We’ve got it covered. Besides, it looks like you’re pretty busy here.” Macy tipped her head at his piles of paper.

“Never too busy for my charges,” he huffed out sulkily. Honestly, he sounded as if he was being deliberately left out of some fun, but he settled back into his seat just the same. 

Macy bit down on a laugh. For a very grown, nearly hundred year old man Harry Greenwood sounded like he might actually start pouting. _Oh Harry, _she thought affectionately to herself as the man did just that. Stifling the urge to run her knuckles down his cheeks and smooth the pout from his lips, Macy opted instead for another light squeeze of his shoulder.

“We’ll have to go up anyway once they’re ready,” Macy said placatingly before she made her way to the counter to peruse Harry’s ridiculous array of refreshments. “Stay down here with me while they do their thing? Tell me what you had your class write about. I just need to think about anything other than this demon for, like, five minutes.”

She busied her hands with picking through and sampling the treats as she waited for his answer.

It was getting harder and harder keeping her hands off their Whitelighter. And it wasn’t as if she wanted to touch him _all_ the time. She’d never been the handsiest of people, not even with Galvin. But something was different about Harry. Something about him _pulled_ at her. Always had since the first days she had known him. Well, not _always_. That first day hadn’t been the best of introductions. But since then? Even when the spirit board had tried to warn them off using the nearly convincing guise of their dead mother, Macy had still _wanted_ to trust him.

It was afterward when they were all catching their breath in the wreckage of the living room that she had first seen it. She’d seen him turn inward and for the briefest of moments get lost in his own pain and memories. She’d barely known him then but that brief flash of pain felt so familiar. And the more Macy and her sisters got to know Harry and about his life the more she recognized it for loneliness. The kind that came from years of being utterly alone with no family left in the world.

She knew that pain and it hurt to see her friend suffering in the same way. And although she only knew what she would want in those instances she hoped by maybe giving him the kind of comfort she herself craved she could perhaps ease his hurts just a little.

“-in contrast to current hiring practices and prohibitions in employee interview… Macy?”

Macy jumped a little. She felt a spark of guilt flare up at being so lost in thought that she hadn’t realized he’d been talking the whole time.

“Sorry, Harry. I was just really enjoying the rarebit,” she offered as an excuse. “Can you repeat that last part?” Macy plucked a piece of bread off the near empty tray and popped it into her mouth. She couldn’t help the tiny moan that escaped when the savory, cheesy sauce hit her tongue. It was _so good._ Definitely her favorite of Harry’s treats, though she’d never actually told him such.

Harry paused again, staring at her with an inscrutable expression. Dammit, she’d interrupted him with her weird eating noises. Picking up a second piece, Macy self-consciously worked to be quieter with her snacking.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, scooping a drip of cheese from her lip and sucking it off her finger. The late hour must’ve been making her sloppy. _This night cannot end soon enough_, she thought to herself. “So what did that student,” Macy gestured at the essay directly in front of Harry with her third piece, “What did they have to say about it that’s making you so cranky?”

It took a moment before he answered and Macy watched as he blinked silently a few times. _God, he must be so tired, too._ She was about to tell him to just go have a rest on the living room sofa when Harry seemed to collect himself and with a roll of his eyes launched into an exasperated review of his student’s less than enlightened views on gender and pay equality.

Macy grinned and settled in to <strike>bask</strike> listen intently to the adorably snippy rumble of Harry’s voice.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NB: I've upped the rating for this fic for the upcoming chapters and on. There will be graphic descriptions of injuries, mildly dubious consent (I prefer to err on the side of caution) and a not so mild sexual content.
> 
> So if that's not your bag, curate your online experience accordingly. ;)

There was a small part of him that knew he was being ridiculous. But Harry couldn’t help feeling just a bit put out at the idea of not being needed by his charges. It was quite literally, what he lived for. Resurrected for, if one were so inclined to be that specific. He was just about to say so but at the sound of Macy’s stifled chuckle his urge to grouse just a bit more faded away. 

He supposed that was another thing he lived for, the delicate sound of Macy’s warmhearted laughter. Whenever he heard it, and most especially if he was the cause, it felt like a Christmas tree lighting up in his chest. He found it such a profound relief that she still had such a capacity for lightness and levity despite a lifetime of loss and loneliness. And doubly so given her more recent experiences with the Source. Harry would gladly offer himself up for the occasional buffoonery if it would earn him even those small laughs the likes of which she had just gifted him.

Macy pulled away, making her way to the island counter Harry was flooded with something was most definitely not relief or laughter. For just a moment as she left his side, Macy’s hand trailed gossamer light across his back. The warmth of her fingertips soaked though the fine material of his shirt and sent a shock of pleasure skittering down his spine to settle in his lap. He thanked whatever lucky stars might be wheeling above that her back was turned and she couldn’t see his hands clutch at the table or the bone deep shudder that ran through him. Harry shifted on his seat; scooting himself closer to the table. That he hadn’t actually moaned aloud was a minor miracle.

_Damn you, Harry Greenwood._ Harry cursed at himself._ A bloody drunken satyr has more self-discipline than your wretched self._

-

He had been doing _so well_ today. Even when Macy had touched his arm and asked him to take her home, when she had lingered in his arms after he had nearly sent her to tumbling to the floor with his artless landing, even then he had managed to keep himself in check. 

It was something Harry took deliberate care with, tamping down his reactions to her every touch and word. He started each new day with a set of admonitions to be more respectful and to restrict his focus to his role as advisor to all of his charges. After months of practice Harry had hoped he had achieved at least a modicum of mastery over his heart and body. And for the most part he had. However, on those days when he was the most ‘successful’ Harry’s dreams would find a way to bring out the lie of his daytime pretenses. Torturous dreams of low, soft sounds and entwined limbs, wrung out pleas and fearless declarations. Dreams so soaked in all his most ardent desires he often fought waking from them.

And now, despite his daily mantras and culinary distractions, with the lightest of touches Harry found himself hiding himself under the kitchen table. She hadn’t meant her touch to be so provocative (or provocative at all, truth be told) and he cursed his unruly body for turning a friendly gesture into something tawdry. But Harry was a man determined and these personal failures would not keep him from striving to be the friend his Macy needed and deserved. And right now what she needed of him was conversation and distraction and she would have just that.

-

_Mustn__’t__\- She__’s not doing this on purpose. She’d not do this to you on purpose_, Harry repeated to himself at the sound of yet another soft hum of pleasure from the woman still making her way through what he knew to be her current favorite snack. At the sight of her once again apologetic and truly embarrassed expression he knew he was correct. But as she moved to another tray slipped a morsel from it between her full lips his situation beneath the table went from somewhat embarrassing to alarming and altogether untenable. Now, there was absolutely no leaving his seat until his charge was well and gone from the kitchen.

The chime of Macy’s phone was nothing less than an absolute relief. At this hour it could only be her sisters. Harry took the moment of interruption to gather himself. Macy would expect him to accompany her back up to the attic and that simply was not possible at the moment. But what to say that wasn’t a lie and yet wasn’t a truth neither of them were ready to acknowledge?

“Maggie says they’re ready,” Macy informed him around a bite of fruit. He watched her flick at something on her phone before sliding it into her back pocket.

Harry sighed and looked down at the essays in front of him. It would have to be a lie, then. He rubbed forcefully at his forehead. Detestable as he found being anything less than truthful with his charges it he could think of no other option.

“I-” he gestured vaguely at the stack of graded papers before him, “-just two more papers. I’ll be right up after that.”

“Harry…” It was a mild reproof, kind even. She always saw right through him. “You finished the last one at least ten minutes ago, remember?”

He kept his eyes on his papers, unwilling to look at her as the lies left his mouth.

“I meant, I just wanted to look over these last two one more time. I fear that perhaps I may have been a bit too harsh with my assessment. These students deserve-” He cut himself off with a heavy sigh. He had lapsed into babbling again. “You and Melanie know how to start the ritual. I have absolute faith in the two of you to guide your sister.”

With that Harry clicked open his pen and began to reach for the first fully marked up paper his lowered gaze came across. He stopped short when he felt Macy’s hand once again settle on his shoulder. She didn’t say anything at first, simply holding on to him and letting her thumb drift back and forth over.

“Alright,” Macy said with a delicate patience he didn’t deserve. As peculiar as they both knew he was being she was letting him have his secrets. “Take your time, Harry. But don’t overdo it. The work, I mean. I- We need you to take care of yourself as just much as you take care of us.”

His chest suddenly felt tight and he worked quickly to squelch the urge to lay his cheek against her hand and maybe press a grateful kiss to her soft skin. Instead he covered her hand with his own. After a breath or two, he nodded and was offering up faint assurances that he was nearly finished and would be up straight away when he felt Macy’s palm slide out from under his hand and along his shoulder. His words trailed off and later Harry would swear that his heart had stopped as Macy dropped her own kiss to the top of his head. 

“Come up when you’re ready,” he felt her quiet words ruffle through his hair before she left him altogether and disappeared into the foyer leaving sat in stunned silence.

-

Macy exited the kitchen with an exaggerated casualness even as everything in her screamed, _run_. The millisecond she rounded the corner she pressed herself into the nook that kept her hidden just out of sight. Shock at her own actions whirled through her entire body like a tornado, leaving her dizzy and shaking.

What had she just done? How- Why- She took in a deep breath and held it, willing her heart to calm and pulling her powers in close before they could betray her.

_Christ, Macy, what happened to _ _‘lock it down’??_

But she knew the answer to that. What little self-control she’d been holding on to had been swept away by that tired yet strangely flushed look on Harry’s face. It was the way he had ever so slightly leaned into her touch earlier and tensed back up when she had pulled away. She’d already been thinking about how her hands itched to offer him the kind of comfort she craved when it occurred to her that he, perhaps, was just as touch-starved as she. And then when he had laid his hand on hers, holding her to him. She watched him turn towards her and then pull back. He was holding himself back and suddenly she couldn’t _not_ touch him. 

Still it was… insane. Wasn’t it? There was touching and then there was- She had _kissed him._

Macy’s phone buzzed and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Mel was asking what the hold up was and Macy swallowed down the bit of manic laughter as she imagined telling her sister what had just happened in their kitchen.

_Nothing. Coming right up,_ she texted back and raced up the stairs, her slippered feet barely making a noise as she finally gave in to the urge to run.


	6. Chapter 6

Macy entered the attic and her sisters greeted her from the far end of the room. She had used the short, albeit frantic, climb to the attic to force herself into a more settle state. She could still feel the tickle of Harry’s hair against her lips but at least she didn’t feel like her insides were about to shake apart anymore.

“No Harry? I thought he’d want to see this,” Maggie’s tone held a tinge of disappointment and it was enough to pull Macy’s focus to the task at hand. Although, crap, that was probably her fault, too.

“He’s just finishing up some grading,” Macy said comfortingly, repeating Harry’s fib as she stepped up to the little table inside the circle of marks her sisters had drawn. “He said he’d be up in a few minutes. But let’s get started anyway. I think if we wait too much longer we’ll be too tired to actually make sense of the maps.” She gave Maggie a little hug with her arm and Maggie leaned into her sister for a moment before nodding and stepping onto her chalked out mark.

Each sister now on their mark, they began the ritual. 

Macy uncovered the now sluggishly pulsing demon appendage and sliced off a thin piece. It hardly reacted, twisting two or three times before resuming its quiet pulsing. Macy dropped the sliced bit onto the small mirrored tray at the center of the table. Using her powers Macy lifted water from out of a pitcher on the floor and let it fill and swirl in the tray. 

Mel took her turn next, sprinkling granules of herbs and iron filings that shimmered as they fell from her fingertips. They levitated just before hitting the surface. With each tiny impact on the water’s surface the granules flashed the same sickly green and yellow as the token in the water. They sank and formed a neat circle around the token with spokes reaching inwards, piercing the token. When the wheel like formation was complete it gave of a bright flash before settling into a dull, pulsing glow.

Maggie looked to her sisters. Mel nodded encouragingly while Macy smiled warmly but not at her, Maggie noticed. Maggie looked questioningly at her oldest sister. Macy gestured to the attic entrance with her head but said nothing. And really, nothing needed to be said. Happy that their Whitelighter wasn’t going to miss her first scrying, Maggie straightened her shoulders, cleared her throat and launched into her incantation.

-

Harry checked himself over one last time before entering the stairwell that led to the attic. He was as composed as he could be given the confusing events that transpired so recently in the kitchen, not to mention the immediate and rather undignified aftermath. He had dealt with his situation as quickly and as discreetly as he could, orbing to his condo the moment he was certain Macy had reached the attic. He had returned not too long later doubly resolved to be the professional his duties as a Whitelighter required of him to be. Whatever he feared might happen when next he was alone with Macy it was clear he’d have to leave the inner turmoil and self-flagellation for later. Right now there sacred duties and magic to be seen to. And with that thought held firm in his mind Harry climbed the stairs and entered the attic.

-

Harry stepped through the doorway doing his best to make as little noise as possible. Even from the bottom of the stairs he could feel the magic of the scrying ceremony beginning to gather. Once in the attic, he stood off to the side. He was trying to be as unobtrusive as possible but still she noticed him. Macy gave him a grateful smile before alerting her sisters to his presence. He sighed to himself. Had she really thought he was going to miss this? Maggie’s clear voice drew him from his thoughts and he settled in to watch his charges at work, love and pride filling his heart.

From his vantage point Harry could see the lights begin to lift from the scrying pool projecting a map of sorts on the attic ceiling. Maggie’s voice faltered briefly as she entered into the second, more complicated part of the incantation. But Harry could hear her resolve strengthen and the dancing lights responded accordingly. They continued to shoot up from the pool like tiny fireworks. Some of the lights hit an invisible canvas high above the sisters’ heads forming an ever more detailed image, while others fell around them like a glittering curtain, sparking as they touched the chalk symbols on the floor. He watched with pride as the image above coalesced into a clear map compete with a glowing, pinpoint indicator.

And then the house shook and a familiar, putrid smell filled the room.

-

Macy felt a tremor under her feet and her nose wrinkled as nasty odor wafted by. She looked down at their scrying pool and nearly gagged. The waters had turned a dirty brown, an inky cloud emanating from the token. The cloud grew until it completely obscured the token and filled every inch of the pool. The surface of the pool began to pulse, rising and falling as if it were trying to breach some invisible barrier.

“Guys?” Maggie looked to her sisters but they had no answers to give her.

“Harry, what’s happening?” Mel threw her hand out at the pool but it froze for only a second before breaking through her magic. “Harry??” Mel called out to their Whitelighter.

“Girls, come out of the circle. Now!”

Each sister turned but collided with an invisible barrier. Mel attempted to shoulder her way through it but it was solid and unyielding. 

“Harry, we can’t get out. Something’s holding us in,” Mel yelled out, her eyes widening with alarm.

“We’re trapped?” A frightened whisper came from the youngest Charmed One as she tried to back as far away as she could from the scrying pool.

Macy slammed her palms against the barrier pushing at it with her powers. It rang out with a brassy, bell-like tone but otherwise refused to be penetrated.

Harry raced to one of the side tables and snatched up an athame and one of the lit candles. He spat out an incantation and thrust the blade through the flame and the barrier. The blade slid ineffectually along the invisible surface. Harry tried once more and then again with more and more force. He cursed as the blade slipped in his grasp and sliced open his palm. He tried kicking at the chalk wards on the floorboards but they were well within the barrier and unreachable. Harry screamed his frustration and slapped his hands against the invisible wall leaving a bloody streak hanging in the air. Harry’s panicked eyes met Macy’s. There was nothing he could do.

They both spun at the sound of Maggie screaming. The filthy looking water was pulsating faster now, rising higher and higher almost like it was bouncing off the surface of the tray. Maggie jumped back but was repelled when she hit the barrier. The rebound sent her into the little table and it wobbled violently. Macy grabbed at the table to steady it and a tiny droplet broke free of the pool. It splashed onto the wooden surface making an angry sizzle as it struck. Macy pulled her hand away and watched in horror as a fist-sized hole formed in the wood.

The pool pulsed again and again, dome rising higher and higher until it rose in its entirety out of the tray in the form of a small, swirling, yellow-brown globe. It hovered just above the tray’s surface dripping corrosive drops until the tray and table collapsed into a pile of smoking wood and molten glass. It gave one last menacing pulse and the sisters knew with absolute certainty what was about to happen. Macy and Mel simultaneously leapt at Maggie, turning their backs to the globe to shield their baby sister. They heard the splash and sizzle of the globe bursting as well as a soft whipping noise and waited to feel the burn. But the pain never came. Instead they heard a low groan and the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

As Harry's mind rose sluggishly out of the depths of slumber towards consciousness he frowned, hazy visions of being lifted into the air and stripped of his clothes passing through his head. They came upon him in short bursts of memory-like images. Pain tearing screams from his lips. Sobs sounding on every side of him. Full body levitation. And then some of the most unrealistic and idiotic imagery his addled brain had ever come up with, a disquietingly somber and breathtakingly thorough sponge bath courtesy of one Macy Vaughn. Impossibilities and insanities.

Harry’s eyes fluttered open to darkness and he could feel, in his aching bones, the lateness of the hour. Then Harry felt his body twist as if it could escape the rush of pain sweeping over him. He heard himself groan loudly and he winced internally. His ability to silence himself, it seemed, was temporarily lost. Perhaps if he moved- A weak cry of pain fell from his lips and Harry’s protesting body sank heavily back onto the bed.

_Shh, shh. It__’s alright. Just lie still. I’ve got it_.

A cool hand descended on his tight and heated skin and Harry felt a trickle of water slide into his hair.

_Macy?_

_I'm here, Harry. I’m right here. Just relax._

Her hands swept over him and wherever her delicate fingers touched the heat and pain subsided.

_Macy._

_It's alright, Harry. Go back to sleep. I’ve got you._

And with that Harry let the darkness close over him once more.

-

When Harry had what he considered to be a good day, no stray thoughts about the woman who is his friend and eldest charge, no unwelcome reactions to her touch or the shape of his name forming on her smiling lips, no accidental brushes of his hands against hers- He could always count on there being ‘repercussions’ as soon as his head touched his pillow. And if they did not come immediately then they were sure to appear in the nights to follow.

So when next his eyes opened to the soft, bright light of her bedroom it didn’t come as too great a surprise. It was, after all, one of his favorite dreams. The morning sun filtered in from the corner behind her bed. The curtains that hung over her windows were gauzy and moved with the slight breeze. The hints of lavender and lilac and a few of the other herbs growing out on their balcony floated in through the billowy cotton. Harry took a deep breath and smiled at the heady fragrance of their balcony garden, ignoring the curiously real feel of the air filling his dream body’s lungs.

In the morning, when he awoke, Harry would once again be all that he needed, controlled, dutiful, attentive to Macy’s needs (and those of her sisters) while still conscious and respectful of their set boundaries. But in these fleeting moments before the real sun roused him from sleep he would hold fast and sink as deep as possible into his impossible fantasies.

Harry stretched and luxuriated in the feel of their cool sheets sliding over his, he peeked below- yes, naked body. In this, his most favorite of dreams where she loved him as he loved her, this was _their _bedroom and he lay in _their_ bed. Their bed where she let him be hers in all the ways either of them could imagine and a few she’d taken upon herself to look up on the internet. Harry felt the stirring of his arousal and let his body relax and sink into the softness of the mattress. He turned to rub his face against her pillow, catching the scent of her soaps mingling with that of his own shampoo. A hum of contentment rose up behind his lips and he reached under the sheet to stroke at his half-hard cock.

Harry’s ears picked up the nearly imperceptible grind of the doorknob turning and pulled his hand away from himself. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and felt the need to stretch again. His back and shoulders felt strangely sore and unrested for all this having been a dream. But that faint curiosity faded as a head of upswept curls poked around the edge of the opening door. 

It was Macy. Of course it was Macy. _His_ Macy. Harry let the small smile on his face stretch out into a wide grin. She was dressed as if ready for a day away from work. The skirt of her dress swung slightly as she entered the room and pushed the door shut. It was one of his favorite dresses of hers, the bodice fitted but not tight, comfortable and soft, just like her. No doubt the reason his sleeping mind had chosen it for her.

“Oh, thank god, Harry. You’re awake,” Macy breathed out in relieved tone that was, like his soreness, on just this side of odd. It wasn’t the warmest of morning greetings but Harry paid it no mind when she came to sit on the bed next to him. As she settled herself beside his hip her weight tugged at the sheet draped over Harry’s waist. It slid, smooth and cool, over his naked hips and Harry shuddered at the sensation.

Macy’s hands rose to frame his face and her warm palms held him firmly as she seemed to be searching for something. Her fingers combed through the hair above his ear and temple as she shifted him this way and that as she inspected every inch of his head. 

“Do I pass inspection, Doctor?”

“You’re going to need a haircut,” she pronounced with a nod. Macy let her hands slide out of his hair and down to his neck, one hand pausing briefly to sweep the backs of her fingers against the shell of his ear. He loved when she touched him so confidently, nary a reservation as her fingertips caressed his skin. 

Her hands gripped at his shoulders and Harry hummed as her warmth sank into his sore muscles. She must have noticed as her fingers kneaded at him briefly. His eyes slid shut and a soft sound, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, escaped him. The bed dipped again as she shifted to get closer. Harry felt himself tip towards her. Her hands tightened on his shoulders and he groaned at the pleasured ache it elicited. She pushed at him and it seemed she was trying to steady him. He let out a soft chuckle, he was feeling anything but.

“And before that you’re going to need a real bath, Professor,” she teased.

“Are you saying I have an odor, Dr Vaughn? Such bedside manners, you have. And you haven’t even said ‘good morning’ to me yet,” Harry challenged as he moved to balance himself on one hand. 

Instinct cautioned him to move slowly, so as not to spook her. Though, Harry thought, how could he ‘spook’ her if in this dream she was already his? He lifted his free hand to Macy’s soft cheek and gently pulled her to him. She seemed almost rather warm and maybe even flushed, a near imperceptible darkening of her golden hued skin. Her eyes widened almost as if she were surprised by something but offered no resistance.

“Good morning, Harry. You stink. Better?”

“Mmm yes, I do love your warm welcomes,” he murmured against her mouth, brushing his smiling lips against her with every other word before diving headlong into his favorite part of the dream. 

With an unabashedly needy groan Harry lost himself in the taste of coffee on her lips and the feel of her tongue sweeping against his. He made no effort to stop the sounds she drew from him with every press of her lips against his, every returned kiss. Silently, he offered himself up to be consumed by her. And as in his waking hours, she seemed to see him and understand that which he needed from her. 

Macy’s arms wound around his neck and he could feel her wants aligning with his. She sealed her mouth to his and her body pressed fully against him. He fell back into the soft mattress, dragging a giggling Macy with him. With throaty pleas and kiss after kiss, soft alternating with deep, Harry begged her to let him stay with her in this dream for just a little longer. To give him just a few more moments in which to bring her pleasure.

His tongue loosened, Harry told her every fantasy of his that came to mind. He laid a line of kisses under her chin and along her jaw as he told her how often he’d thought about the two of them in his office. Told her how he wished, as clichéd as it was, to just once have her sat atop his desk. To make love to her there until she cried out loud enough to rattle the windows behind his desk. He told her of his fantasies of their lunchtime meetings and his office’s worn, leather sofa. How there were days when he’d struggled, nearly in vain, not to kneel before her and beg her to let him lay his tongue against her and lap at her sweetness.

He could hear her whimper, feel the tremor in her lips. He took one more deep kiss from her, nipping her bottom lip before wrapping his arms around her torso. With a smoothness that, had he the wherewithal, Harry might have felt more than a little smug about, he flipped them over. A small wince crossed Macy’s face but before it could truly register in his mind it was replaced by laughing smile. 

The sheet that had been covering him tangled around Harry’s leg and waist and he kicked impatiently at it. He tugged at it with his toes until the sheet released him and slid off the bed and onto the floor. Once free his knees flexed under hers and Harry shivered as her legs slid over the hairs of his thighs until her bent knees rested against his ribs. He pushed forward with his hips and found that now the only barrier between his stiff and reddened manhood was the thin, oh my, _damp_ fabric of her undergarments. Harry groaned as he thrust against her covered sex, wanting nothing more than to pull the cloth aside and rub his cock through her dark, swollen folds, gliding against her until he was soaked and glistening with her arousal.

“Harry…” Another shudder ran through Harry and his member twitched against her at the sound of his name drawn out in such needy whine. _“Please_.” 

Her hands were roaming all over his back and down his arms and it was glorious. He could think of few things he could ever want more than to be so thoroughly explored by his Macy. He pressed into her again and her hips rose swiftly to meet him. Her pelvis swiveled against him and it was his turn to jerk against her. Her panties now thoroughly soaked, he could almost imagine what running his cock between her hot folds might really be like. One simple tug to the side…

Then Macy’s hands settled briefly against his chest before sliding downward. Her nails raked through the hairs on his chest and he could guess what her intentions were. Before he could decide whether it was a good idea or not one of her hands had encircled him and all thought fled his mind. 

He was pulled down into another kiss and the hand wrapped so firmly around him was trapped between their bodies. Her fingers tightened and stars burst behind his eyes. It was too much. He needed to slow things down; else they end right here and now all over her smooth, brown belly. 

Harry wrapped a hand around her wrist and tugged her away from his length, whimpering into the crook of her neck as he did so. Macy shuddered beneath him as he pulled first one arm then the other above her head. 

“Wait. Just wait,” he commanded against her throat. Harry’s grip tightened slightly and he pushed lightly against her wrists, refusing to let go until he felt her hands clutch at the pillow beneath her head. He ground himself against her, swiveling is own hip until they both were moaning. His hands skimmed over the bodice of her dress and he laughed. How long had they been here, grinding away on each other and Harry still hadn’t managed to pull Macy’s dress much less her panties off of her. 

His hands found their way under her dress but as his hands slid up from her knees and along the warm and damp skin of her thigh he encountered what felt like but couldn’t possibly be a rather large bandage. Harry pulled himself away from their kiss and barely registered Macy’s mewl of disappointment. With a sense of dread rising up in him, Harry grasped the hem of Macy’s dress pushed the light material up to her hips. His hands moved quickly but with none of the ardor from just moments ago. 

Harry forced his gaze downward but it wasn’t the heather grey cotton, darkened and sodden with moisture that caught his eye. High on the outside of Macy’s thigh was a large swath of gauze secured with medical tape. Harry laid a trembling hand lightly over the bandage and called up his powers. His breath caught, dread surging into and through every bone in his body. Then dread morphed into horror as reality, actual reality, sank in.

Dear god, no. Please no, it couldn’t be. Could it? But she was injured. And he had never dreamed of her injured. Why on earth would he? Harry could feel the truth of it, though, under his hand. The blistered skin, the damaged nerves, the _pain_ that lingered despite the flood of pleasure and arousal that still coursed through her.  
  
Harry looked down at the woman sprawled out before him, her chest heaving, her legs splayed and draped over his thighs, his heavy length twitching and tapping heavily against her barely hidden center, leaving behind its own faint traces of moisture.

This-

_Oh god, what have I done?!_

This was _real_.


	8. Chapter 8

Macy’s eyes blinked and then blinked again as she stared at the suddenly empty space between her splayed thighs where her stark naked whitelighter had just been kneeling. 

What the hell had just happened? What had she done wrong? Had… Had she read the situation wrong? It had felt- _He_ had felt… She pressed her legs together as her senses were invaded by the phantom sensations of how Harry had felt as he pressed his hard length against her. How could have been possible to misread _that_?

She placed her hand over her bandaged burn and frowned. The raw skin beneath itched and Macy heard herself calling out quietly but firmly for Harry. Forget her injury, the man needed to come back here and _talk_ to her.

Macy tried again, saying his name louder this time but again, no answer. Macy rubbed at the bandage trying to soothe the insistent ache as well as the annoyance she could feel bubbling up inside her. She was halfway through calling for him a third time when she felt it, his resistance. Her eyes widened. She didn’t know how she knew but she knew with absolute certainty that Harry Greenwood, devoted protector and advisor to witches, was most definitely _ignoring_ her.

-

Macy pulled the cap from her head and stepped out of her bathroom, tossing her towel at the hamper by the door. She managed to get as far as pulling on her bra and panties before caving and scooping up her phone from the bed only to throw it back down again when she saw that no new- hell, no notifications _at all_ graced her lock screen. 

_Goddammit, Harry._

Her fingers itched to fire off one last terse text when the little voice that had been with her all her life began to whisper. Macy pulled in a slow breath and shook out the hands she hadn’t even noticed she’d been clenching. She needed to rein herself in.

_Lock it up and clamp it down, baby girl. Don’t do anything you might regret._

She gave her phone another look and her hand twitched against her leg. Macy shook her head in disgust. How many more times in the next twenty-four hours was she going to embarrass herself with her lack of self-control? She’d gone from accidentally throwing herself into his arms, to practically fondling him in the kitchen and dropping unsolicited kisses on him while he was trying to work, to _actually_ freaking fondling him in her damn bedroom. 

Macy’s face burned and she rubbed her hand furiously against her hip, trying to scrub away the phantom feel of his- of- of _Harry_ in her hand. She wasn’t going to be able to lock a damn thing down with those kind of thoughts running through her head. She swallowed hard and strode into her closet, refusing to acknowledge the tingle trying to reignite between her legs.

As she flipped past blouse after blouse, Macy’s hand brushed against the sheer sleeve of a chiffon dress and an image of Harry, fingers and lips skimming along the plunging neckline as she threaded her fingers through that dark, silky hair of his, slipped uninvited into her head.

Macy squeezed her eyes shut. This was…

Insane, was what it was. Just plain nuts. They _had_ to talk. If he wanted her, if he didn’t, if whatever happened this morning was just some lingering effect of his injuries- she just needed him to tell her what the hell was going on. She needed him to talk to her and help her set all of this straight or she was afraid she was going to lose her freaking mind. And if he wasn’t going to come to her or answer even his damn phone, she was going to go-

“Macy?”

Macy jumped at the soft voice sounding on just the other side of her door. Macy walked towards the door while stretching a hand behind her and calling whatever article of clothing was closest to her hand. Oh damn, the chiffon dress. Holding it up in of her, Macy opened the door to Maggie, grateful for a distraction.

“Hey Maggie, what’s up?”

“Is Harry here?”

Macy’s stomach clenched a little at the look on her supernaturally perceptive sister’s face. From her expression, it seemed Maggie already knew the answer to that but was looking to have a conversation about it.

“No. He woke up feeling better and went home.”

“Oh. Well, he left his phone and…”

_Ah. She’d seen the texts._

“I really need to get ready for work, Mags,” Macy said, trying not to be too terse but still hoping it might, for once, do the trick and head off on whatever heart-to-heart Maggie was wanting to have. Macy walked back into her closet and began to pull the dress over her head.

“Yeah, but I kind of saw the texts you sent him. Did something happen? Are you guys, like, fighting or something?”

“No, we’re not fighting,” Macy answered after a moment.

“Then why-”

Macy looked down, suddenly very focused on the buttons and belt of her dress as she scrambled for a plausible answer to Maggie’s questions that wasn’t, _a fully naked Harry and I made out and were friggin’ dry-humping on my bed when he orbed off without explanation or even so much as a damn goodbye, _or as the kids put it, the truth_._

“I guess he was a little embarrassed when he woke up naked and wanted to go home and get dressed,” Macy said with her back turned to Maggie. She didn’t think she’d ever told either of her sisters a flat out lie before and Macy’s hands shook as she struggled to do up the last of the three measly buttons of her dress. Oh, this thing really was as low cut as she remembered. She called a long, summery cardigan to her from the other side of the closet and slipped it over her dress.

“But then why the all the capslock texts?”

“Oh well…” Macy forced herself to take a breath and shoved aside the image of Harry hastily pushing himself up to kneel between her legs and the flush that covered him from the top of his head to the tip of his- “We were in the middle of, uh, talking when he just got up left and…” 

Just saying it out loud seemed to revive the embers of her exasperation with the man.

“And let me guess, you got all annoyed he didn’t let you finish your pitch about staying in bed and all that?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Macy shook her head, once again in awe at her sister’s uncanny ability to hit the nail exactly on the head. She exited the closet to see Maggie nodding understandingly. After a moment Maggie’s head popped up and she was wearing a grin that set all sorts of warning bells ringing inside Macy. A plan was forming in the youngest Charmed One’s head and Macy knew there was a fifty-fifty chance it would end up mortifying for one of them.

“Hey, maybe if you guys are still doing your usual lunch today you can bring him his phone and then try again to talk him into coming back home for the rest of the day! I can come home early and we can take shifts like you and Mel did after Harry and I got back from- from that place.”

Macy’s shoulders sagged as a spike of relief ran through her.

“Yeah, that was actually kind of my plan, too.”

Maggie’s grin widened and she bounced on her feet.

“Great minds, right? Riiiight?” Maggie swayed towards Macy and pulled back right before she checked Macy’s shoulder, communicating her warm intentions and affection without the actual contact. A buzzing from a phone other than Harry’s drew Maggie’s attention. “Oh crap, it’s Lucy. She’s gonna kill me!”

Then doing an remarkably uncanny impression their whitelighter, Maggie took flight.

-

Looking down at the Harry’s phone, Macy called out the whitelighter’s name one more time, admittedly with more than a little heat behind it. As with the last time, Macy was struck by the singular impression that she was being shut out, ignored. Then, just as a she was about to let loose a string of obscenities, Macy was momentarily distracted by a faint tingle in her fingertips and a significantly less faint _tug_ on the object in her hand. Her eyes narrowed and she ground out a short spell, refusing to let the coward conjure his phone out of her hand. Oh, he would get his phone back, alright. He would get it back when she damn well gave it to him.


	9. Chapter 9

Most of Macy’s anger had bled off in the short walk onto campus. Oh, she was still plenty pissed at Harry’s having fled in the middle of… whatever had been happening between them this morning and then his subsequent refusal to answer her call. But she’d had decades to perfect the tamping down of her emotions. So while Macy still felt like one wrong word from the Whitelighter and she might not be able to stop herself from tearing a strip off him at least she wasn’t literally seeing red or feeling like she wanted to tap into her demon-side. For a good five minutes there back at the house she’d actually felt like she would literally burst into flames before she’d managed to calm herself down.

But even that last bit of heat died away the moment she reached Harry’s office.

“Oh, Dr. Vaughn! Thank god you’re here!” Irene, Harry’s admin assistant called out to her while jumping from her desk. Macy nearly jumped, herself when the woman darted between Macy and Harry’s office door.

“Oh, okay. Um, what’s going on, Irene?” Macy asked, her worry beginning to ratchet up as Harry’s assistant seemed to be checking the area for any eavesdroppers.

“It’s Professor Greenwood,” Irene said in a quiet yet pregnant tone. Immediately, Macy’s heart kicked up a notch. “He’s kind of been in a _ mood _ since he got here this morning. First thing he did was have me cancel all his meetings and lectures for today and then locked himself in there. I can hear him moving furniture around but he hasn’t let me or anyone else into the office for a few hours. Honestly, I was just about to call you-”

“Call _ me_?”

“Well, yes. You’re his emergency contact.”

Oh. _ Ohhh yeah_, Harry had mentioned changing it to her after they’d found that the entire infrastructure of the Elders’ network had disappeared along with them. Wait… Emergency?

“Of course, of course. That I am,” Macy said, trying for nonchalance but knowing she was missing the mark, probably by miles. “Really though, Irene, you’re starting to scare me. What’s going on with him?”

“He was just so pale when he came in and with the cancelling his classes and everything…” Irene seemed actually worried. It was something Macy appreciated about her and about Harry’s staff in general. They all seemed genuinely fond of him.

“Well, Harry was… I think he maybe caught something this weekend? Must not be over it yet. Let me see if I can talk him into going home. Is he going to be missing anything big?”

Irene shook her head, “Not really. It’s a pretty light week, thankfully. Nothing big starting until the end of next week.”

“Alright, in that case I’m gonna go in and see what I can do. I hate to make any decisions for him but if I have to keep him home for a few days…?”

“I’ll see about what the TAs and I can do about his schedule for tomorrow.”

Macy thanked the woman as she finally moved from her place in front of Harry’s door, assuring her that she needn’t stay if she wanted to step out for her lunch as she usually did at this hour. Irene’s shoulders sagged with relief and she walked back over to her desk to pull a bag from under her desk. 

Adjusting her purse strap and tucking a thin stack of folders under her arm, Irene came back to Macy, giving her a comforting squeeze on her arm.

“The professor is so lucky to have you, Dr. Vaughn.”

“Uh, thanks, Irene. I feel pretty lucky to have him, too.”

Satisfied, the assistant gave her a warm, tired smile and made her way down the hallway and disappeared around a corner.

Macy shook her head once the woman was out of sight. The level of relief on Irene's face as she left was just as worrisome to Macy as everything she’d just been told. How weird _ was _ Harry being to make his normally unflappable assistant _ that _ nervous?

Macy wrapped a hand around the doorknob and gasped.

Locked she could understand. But with _magic?_

_ What the hell was going on with that man? _

-∵-

Macy grabbed the brass knob and hissed a spell at the door. She ignored the sting Harry’s spell was sending into her palm and finished the short incantation. Harry’s spell crumpled under the force of her own and with a sharp twist and push Macy opened the heavy wooden door. As she made her way in, Macy’s jaw dropped at the sight that greeted her.

Harry Greenwood, Whitelighter and head of the entire Women’s Studies department was standing on a credenza, doing magic with the blinds open for all the outside world to see.

“Harry! What the– _ Harry Greenwood, are you out of your freaking mind?!” _

Macy’s gaze snapped in rapid succession to the blinds of each window and they cascaded noisily down, the last one crashing down onto Harry’s hand as he continued his enchantment. Harry yelped and Macy whirled around as the whitelighter disappeared from atop the shelf and reappeared with his back pressed against the flanking brick wall.

It took a minute before Harry’s eyes seemed to focus on her. God, he _ was _ pale. Could he actually be sick? Macy was sure at some point he’d told them that Whitelighters didn’t suffer from ‘common mortal ailments’. 

In fact, now that she thought back on it, he _ had _ said pretty much that exact thing. And he’d been so smug about it. She’d had a cold and had been worried he might catch it. After his little speech, Harry had been lucky to escape her room without something flying at his head.

But in the here and now, Harry looked anything but smug. In fact he looked ready to bolt. Macy followed his gaze to the door and with a quirk of her eyebrow she threw the deadbolt.

Macy’s mouth dropped open in disbelief when she turned around to find Harry back at the windows, albeit with his feet firmly on the ground this time. But still, there he was, finger running around the edge of a window pane, a faint glow following in his finger’s wake.

“Oh my god,” Macy half whispered, half hissed at him, “_that’s_ what you’re doing? You’re warding the windows?! Harry, the blinds were all the way up! Anyone looking past the bushes could have seen you! Harry? **_Harry!_**”

Macy could feel her ire starting to rise again as Harry continued to pay her no mind. She crossed the room, intent on either shaking him or possibly knocking him out if that’s what it took to stop him. But before she could reach him, Harry froze. He spun around and Macy’s stomach dropped as he seemed to finally realize he wasn’t alone.

Something dropped from Harry’s hand as he quickly crossed the space between them. From the sound, it was most likely one of Harry’s specially prepared, spell casting chalks. Macy wasn’t able to confirm that, though, as Harry immediately launched into a jumbled apology. But exactly for what, Macy couldn’t quite decipher, the man was speaking so fast.

“…it was unforgivable of me. Don’t know what could have possessed me to do any of that. But you have my respect, my _ utmost _ respect, Macy. I promise that you do. Rest assured, nothing like that will ever, _ ever _ happen again.”

Macy’s face heated as she realized what he was talking about. Apologizing for. _ Swearing would never happen again. _

“Never mind about that,” Macy implored, needing Harry to stop talking. PleasepleasepleasepleaseHarryjuststoptalking. Before her embarrassment engaged her powers and she ripped a hole in the floor of his office to hurl herself into. “Just…forget about that for now. Harry, what’s happening here?”

Harry’s apologies died off much to Macy’s relief. The sleeve of Harry’s coat felt soft and expensive as her fingers curled into the fabric over the inside of his elbow. She tried to tug him further away from the windows but Harry stood his ground. 

“Just one moment, Macy. I’m nearly finished. If you’ll just bear with me, I’ve only these last two panes.”

Nodding, Macy stepped back and held her tongue as Harry, with far more caution than he had displayed when she’d first entered the office, tipped up the bottom of the blinds to set the last of his wards on the bottom section of the last window. 

She could see his knuckles and tips of his fingers blanch as he pressed his palm hard against the window’s casing. For a fleeting moment the entire bank of windows glowed weakly before stuttering and fading out entirely. Harry frowned, lifting his hand and inspecting it as if the failure somehow lay within. He tried again. Same result. Harry pounded a fist against the wood and muttered a soft curse.

From the line in his shoulders Macy could see her whitelighter’s frustration mounting. Stepping up behind him, Macy stretched her arm out alongside his and laid her own hand next to his, half over his and half on the casing. As Harry began his incantation she joined her voice with his. 

Macy’s free hand curled in the fabric at the bottom of Harry’s coat as their combined magic flooded the tracing. The wards flared and it was a struggle for Macy not to falter in her incantation and instead sink her teeth into the thick shoulder of Harry’s coat and moan.

Her face pressed into the damp skin at the nape of his neck, Macy managed to continue to chant. Her lips brushed at his nape with each word of magic she whispered. Her arm was pulled tight around his waist, his fingers intertwined tightly with hers as he held their hands low on his belly. 

_ If he would just let their hands drift a little lower… _

_ Or if he would just let her go for a moment… _

Power pulsed through them and their words were cut short. Beneath the wooden blinds they could see the glass of all three windows glow with a brightness equal to the midday sun pouring in from the other side. 

The spell tightened and thinned and stretched desperately _ tight _ against the windows and then crawled over the walls and ceiling and floor. It filled the entirety of Harry’s office in a warmth that was all at once suffocating, strangling, stuffed and filled to the brim, deliriously intoxicating. 

_ Oh… _ ** **

** _ohgodwhat’shappeningMacyohchristyesohfuckohfuckHarryfuuuuck_** ** _. _ **

-∵-

When she could breathe again and her legs felt like they could once again hold her weight, Macy peeled herself dazedly from Harry’s heaving back.

_ What the hell was that?! _


End file.
